Love: Sufferance
by solitaryloner
Summary: Arrogance is all well and fine until you run into someone who happens to know much more than you do. But even so, it might be okay to be arrogant still - because that other person might adore you especially for your arrogance, and for the weakness you show when your lonely tears run down your face...because some people live just so they can see others suffer. KaiMi, for Ten-Faced.


_**Solitaryloner: **__This is a one-shot for Ten-Faced because I feel really bad about how many requests I've been asking for from her recently. (I feel really demanding now.)_

* * *

_The teal haired girl watches him from her perch on the edge of the cliff._

"Hey…I can grant you anything you want, you know?" she whispered, her hair lifting slightly in a breeze that seemed to affect her, only her, and no one else. He doesn't seem to hear her words. But she's fine with that. Eventually, he would listen to her.

Eventually, he would hear her whispering into his ear. Until then, she would wait – until then she would stay here and watch him, in the valley down below. Was he even aware of where he was, this navy haired man with the dead eyes and empty smile?

_Her green eyes look dejected._

She wonders what his deepest longing is, his greatest wish, his darkest desire. She can't help but feel curious about this man. He was different from the other humans. Unlike the others, who had wailed and screamed to be let out from this valley of hopelessness and despair, he remained silent…as though he had expected this outcome.

_But even so, she laughs arrogantly, like she lords herself above everyone else._

He looks up at her, his eyes dead as always. She, for once, does not know how to respond to that look of utter blankness. She was not used to this sort of expression coming from a mortal. From another demon, perhaps that would not be surprising. From a human…no, this was a first. Was she supposed to react differently, then?

She lets herself leap gently off the cliff, landing lightly on her tiptoes. All the while, his dead blue eyes don't leave her – he continues watching her, like he could hardly care about her presence, about whether she lived or died. She purses her lips, feeling a little strange at the thought of him not caring – she was unused to being…ignored.

_Her eyes still look so miserable, even with that prideful smile on her face._

She wonders if crying would change anything. She stepped closer to him – he turns away from her, like he couldn't be bothered with her any longer. Instead of driving her away, that move just intrigues her – she pauses in her steps, and tilts her head curiously, just to see if he would do anything else that was particularly out of the ordinary.

She is disappointed, but she stays. "Hey…what's your name?" she asks, simply for the sake of asking. She cared little about what a mortal man's name would be. But she had little else to do here, and she would rather make small talk than stay here in the silence. Her sisters were gone – she was the only one still surviving, out of her whole family.

_Who am I?_

"Kaito Shion," he speaks, to her surprise. She stops, staring at him – he glances at her, then turns away again, the spark of interest extinguishing itself in his dead blue eyes. "Do you know where we are?" he asks, this time in a voice that seemed strangely detached from the situation at hand. She smiles. It isn't a pleasant smile.

"We're in the Valley of Despair. It's the place humans go to when they commit suicide – Satan gives you a final chance, to choose between life and death," she laughs, throwing her hands up into the open sky. The harsh wind blows, whipping her teal hair around her face. She ignores the locks of teal as they hit against her skin, hard and demanding.

"So I'm not dead yet?" he asks, sounding strangely disappointed. She stares hard at him – she is used to this sort of response from the people who end up here – and shakes her head. She sees no point in offering any other answer, for bluntness was the best way to deal with people like this. Suicidal people. It was silly, in her opinion – silly to end one's life early just because of complications. When there would always be a way out…

_Her tears are inviting, and they whisper, "Come here…"_

"Choose," she says, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks. Perhaps they were caused by the wind. "Do you want to live, or die? It is a simple choice. If you choose to live, you can make a contract with me," she glides over to him, reaching out – she turns his face back to her, forcing him to meet her eyes. His skin is cold against her fingers. He stares at her, his dead eyes seeming to flicker with some sort of emotion.

He makes no move to get away from her. "What do you mean by a contract?" he asks, his words softly spoken. She tilts her head, a childish move – it makes her look younger than she really does, and her physical appearance already belies her actual age. She laughs at his ignorance – he remains unfazed by her, simply waiting for a reply.

"A contract with a demon, of course," she answers, when she finally sees fit. "Make a deal with me, to grant your deepest, darkest desire – when you go back to the world of the living, use my wish to do whatever you want. Set right your wrong, and live on – but in exchange," she leans in close to him, "when you die a natural death, your soul will be sent down to suffer in Hell for evermore," she smiles. Again, it is a mocking smile.

"But do you know why I killed myself to begin with?" he asks her in return. The smile fades from her face, and she steps back, watching him. No one has ever dared to give her this as a reply, before. No one ever dared to challenge a demon. Her eyes narrow – she is not sure if that resulted from irritation or simple curiosity. For once, he smiles.

_She hides her true feelings in the black loneliness of her heart._

"Well, why did you kill yourself?" she plays along, pandering to his wishes. The valley they were in seemed to curl in upon them, as though the land itself was curious about his answer. It was a bleak place, shrouded with mist – the trees were barren and the rock walls sheer and unforgiving. In the distance, shadows seemed to dance within the purple-grey mist – the souls of tormented people who had ended life too early.

Foolish souls who had chosen not to take up on her offer, the last demon of the seven. And once she was dead, her place would be taken by yet another demon. It was a never-ending, unforgiving cycle of life and death – she would die if he was to refuse her a contract, and she was aware of that. This was how her sisters had died, after all.

But she wouldn't tell him that. Because she was a demon, he was a human, and humans had no business interfering in the world of the supernatural. It didn't matter that he was already teetering on the threshold between life and death. He was still a mortal.

_And even when she questions, cruel playfulness lingers in her smile._

"Because there was nothing worth living for," he answers simply, a short and concise explanation that leaves her, for once, at a loss for words. She was expecting some sort of long-winded story about life and death and mortality, but the navy haired man had defied all expectations. He was a very strange and curious man, she was realising.

"What is your name?" he suddenly asks, while she stood there, unsure about what to say. She looks up – he was staring at her, and she suddenly feels self-conscious. None of the others had ever asked her for her name. She was, quite simply, known as 'The Demon'. No one had ever taken up on her offer of a contract before, and she was starving for sustenance – if this door closed on her, she would wither away into nothing.

_Who are you?_

"…my name?" she asks him. He simply looks at her, not bothering to repeat himself. She finds that she does not mind that he ignored her. "Miku Hatsune," she says slowly, her eyes flickering between him and the valley around them. All her life, she had seen only this place – she wondered what his world must have been like. She wonders what made him give up his life, what made him desperate enough to kill himself before his time.

She wonders why she is even curious. He arches an eyebrow at the sound of her name – suddenly, he reaches out, his icy fingers brushing lightly against her cheek. She tries not to flinch, but she does. He pretends to ignore her reaction. "It is strange to know that a demon would have a name," he says, his fingers lingering against her skin. She gets used to the temperature of his fingers, though she wonders why he does not move his hand.

_She is warm – far warmer than what her mocking laugh would have one believe._

"Your time is running out," she tells him, lacing her fingers together. "There is only so much time you can spend in this limbo. Will you accept my contract, or will you not?" she asks, her voice thinning slightly with her impatience. She worries. She tries not to show that worry – she does not want to die. For even demons could die. For, at the end of the day, demons and humans were not as different as what most would believe.

"I will accept," his words stun her, and her eyes widen. Her frozen smile suddenly disappears from her face. "But you must not know what I want…what I wish to change in my life. That is my only condition. You will not ask me, and I will tell you only when I see fit," his voice was firm, and his eyes were cold – they left her no room to object.

She nods, for she knows she cannot get a better bargain than what he had already laid out for her. She holds on to his hand, not allowing him to move away from her – surprise flits through his eyes, but he makes no attempt to leave. She bites down on her tongue, allowing her blood to fill her mouth – it was only a slight pain, and she ignores it.

She reaches out – her hand yanks on the collar of his shirt, pulling the man down towards her. Her lips cover his, and her blood flows from her to him – blood was how they would seal the contract – and she sees his eyes widen, the deadness in them being temporarily replaced with shock. She chooses, again, to ignore his reaction to her.

_He wonders how she would react if she knew the reason why he agreed to her deal._

Underneath the calm exterior, anger boils endlessly, like magma flowing slowly beneath the Earth's crust. She isn't aware of how he truly was like. "When you see fit, tell me what you really wish for," she whispers. "The sun? The stars? The moon? The means don't matter, so long as you get what you wish for – the thoughts of a selfish man, but that's what all humans are like, isn't it?" her tone is mocking. She is aware.

He does not respond in the way she hoped he might. "Perhaps we are all selfish," his words are quiet. His lips are still crimson from their bloody kiss. She wonders if he even knows how to react. "Let me out of here, then," his words sounded more like a demand, and she was startled by that. A small smile crosses her lips – she is more amused by him than anything else. He was a very entertaining human, who didn't play her games…

She steps back, letting her arms stretch out towards him. "If you can catch me," she lets her voice fade away into the mist, her figure being swallowed up by the mist of the valley. Of course she would let him catch her, but until then, she would have her fun – she wouldn't rest until she had tired him out, wrung all the amusement out of him.

Through the mist, his fingers reach out, and they wrap almost painfully around her wrist. Her eyes widen in shock at how quickly he finds her – she had not expected him to react so quickly to her game. She, the final demon of Purgatory, let herself be dragged back to the mortal – his navy hair was waving in the breeze, the same way hers did.

_She makes things too easy. Her green eyes are glassy. Like broken shards of mirrors._

"I killed myself because I had no reason to live. I lost that reason when I lost my other half," he pauses, regarding her closely, tilting his head – a familiar action that reminds her of herself. "Two thousand years ago," he whispers, the number making her eyes widen in shock. "It seems that not only humans end up here when they die…"

"Who are you?" she asks, feeling incredulous. All the arrogance is gone. She does not know what to expect from this navy haired man, who continues looking at her with those dead blue eyes. He is…new to her. She has never encountered someone like him all her life – and she has lived for quite a while. She has lived for two thousand years.

"I am Kaito Shion," he falls silent for a moment. "And who I truly am…is something that you will eventually come to know," his fingers tighten around her wrist. "Allow me into the world of the living, Miku Hatsune…" the name rolls easily off his tongue, and she finds herself perplexed at how familiar he seems to be with the name. Her name. "And perhaps you will find the answer. You're a cruel girl," his other hand brushes against her cheek, and he catches a tear. "A cruel girl with the most inviting tears…"

He takes the tear and holds it to his lips. His tongue flicks out, and it was stained red, red from her blood. She watches as he licks his finger, catching her tear – his blood-stained tongue leaves a smear of red on his pale skin. "Let go of me," she says, not liking this game anymore. She is tired, and she does not wish to entertain him any longer.

For the first time, he smirks. It does not suit his face. She stands her ground, and his smirk widens subtly. "When you remember," he says easily. "To me, it makes no difference whether I am in here or in the land of the living. I have my reason right where I want it," he tilts his head again. She is beginning to dislike that innocuous action.

It reminds her too much of herself. It confuses her, and makes her question who she really is. He seems to be aware of her internal turmoil. His smile reeks of sadism – and she is nothing but his cruel plaything. She thought he was mortal, but if he has lived for two thousand years, there was no way he could possibly be a human. So what was he?

_Beautiful glassy green eyes, the eyes of a doll. Demanding things she doesn't own, asking about things which do not concern her…she invites trouble. Her eyes are downcast._

"Kaito," she tries, testing the name on her tongue. Now that she focuses on it, the name itself was unnervingly familiar. Like she has heard it before, elsewhere…so long ago that she can't quite recall how she knows the name. It was an important name, she felt sure of that, but she was uncertain as to why this mattered to her. He nods, thinking that she is calling out for him. She shakes her head, and he waits for her to say something else.

How old is she? She cannot remember her exact age. But she knows she is not much older than two thousand years old. It has been a while since she last thought back to the day she was born, shaped into existence. It was so long ago. She remembers loving hands and soft words, whispers like caresses against her bare skin – but she does not recall anything else. She, like all other demons, forged in the home of Satan…

She was placed here to do a job, and she spent two thousand years waiting for someone to finally accept her contract, so that she could leave the Valley of Despair and perhaps finally return to her home. Her home was Hell, and she had almost forgotten what it was like – as a demon of Purgatory, she was meant to dwell here, preying on the unfortunate lost souls of those who had died before their time. And her own time was almost up.

Her creator…what was he searching for? Her creator had blue eyes. That much she could remember – it was not the same blue as his, as Kaito's, but they were close enough to make her recall. She tugs her hand out of his grip. He lets go unwillingly, but does not let her move away from him. His other hand remains still against her face. She does not understand why, and wishes he would just leave her alone. This was not fun to her, not anymore. She could not deal with something which was not a mortal. It was not her job.

_Her heart struggles to recall, even as her mind tries its hardest to reject._

He waits, patient. He has waited for two thousand years – he could wait for longer. He had finally managed to make his way here, and thankfully, she has yet to fade away. It left him with every reason to take her away, and he hoped that the others would not interfere in his affairs once again. Especially not his brother, who had already bothered him one time too many. In the end, he was not capable of truly dying, anyway.

Her glassy green eyes swim with some half-forgotten memory. "You…" her voice is hushed. "You're Satan's brother," she finally realises, abruptly withdrawing from him, her eyes wide with shock. "You're the…" her words trail off. She must have forgotten what came after that. "Then what are you doing here?" her words were faint. He does not know whether he ought to tell her, because then it wouldn't be fun anymore.

And she had always liked fun. It befits a doll like her. "I got lost," he said simply, his eyes still as cold and expressionless as ever. They softened only on rare occasions. He had never noticed, but he knew that they rarely showed affection. Only when it came to her. He had been searching for a very long time – he just hadn't expected her to be here, hiding in plain sight. His brother should have tried harder. "I cannot truly die, as you should know. That's why I agreed to making a contract with you. I am not bound."

"Then why did you bother?" her tone was snappish, her expression haughty. He was feeling amused by her. She had changed little, despite the long years without him. She had forgotten him, but that was all right as well – he didn't want her to remember what her life had once been like. Because she had once been not a demon, and she only changed when she met him. It was still a regret of his, if Hell itself could have regrets.

"To save you from your own personal Hell," he leans close to her, his breath washing over her face. She flinches – like his skin, his breath is frigid, and she does not like it, not when it seemed to bring frost across her. She is cold enough in the valley. "The others could have died for all I care. But I will not allow you to die," his voice hardened. She stared, awed, at him – wondering what was it that made her so special. That made _him _so special. He is a very strange person, regardless of whether he was human or not.

_When she stares so arrogantly, it endears her to me all the more._

He takes her hand. She tries to pull away, but he holds fast. "Get us out of here. And I will explain. But know that, two thousand years ago," his voice hardens, "I was the one who killed you. And I will be the one to undo that as well," his gaze cuts across to her. She does not know what to say to that proclamation. "And I will wait for you to remember."

His words sounded like a confession of sorts, but she is stunned by what he just said – that _he _was the one who had killed her. But she was a demon, was she not? She had been born a demon – she was crafted in Satan's home itself. What talk was there of death and murder? But, the same way she knew she was a demon, the same way she knew Kaito Shion was the brother of the Lord of Hell. She had no idea where this was going.

_Her cruelty is replaced by shocked curiosity. But the former seemed more preferable._

"Leave with me," he says. She nods, not knowing what else to do. She could not deny someone who was so highly ranked in the Hell hierarchy, anyway. He holds her hand up, his lips brushing lightly against her skin – it was a familiar touch, and she frowns, wondering why she finds it so…warming, despite the coolness of his lips against her skin. "When you recall, when you know what is love, demon of Purgatory – when you have finished mocking me for believing in such a thing, you will love me again."

She wants to laugh. _Love, what is love? Love is meant not for demons _– but he does not allow her room for protest. She is quite confused by what is happening, and he is perfectly aware of that – he takes advantage of her befuddlement and whisks her out of there, the way he had always been able to, right from the start. He had never needed her to take them out of there. But he acted like he did – _because she likes being arrogant._

Her childish pride was amusing to him, and that was why he kept her around. Or at least, that was why he_ used _to keep her around. Until she died. Then was turned into a demon. Well, that was done with his brother's help, really…two thousand years wandering around in the limbo between life and death could really take its toll, and he collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. The girl tugged her hand away from him. "Where are we?" she asks, suspicion in her tone. Of course, she wouldn't find this place familiar.

He knows that she cannot remember, because he was the one who had taken her memories away. He didn't want her to know or recall her life before she became a demon of Purgatory – because if she could recall what happened before, she would loathe him. And he did not want that to happen. If he was in her shoes, he would loathe himself too. He had once been utterly despicable, cruel – ah, but he was of Hell itself.

_And she was once too innocent to be a part of this world…_

That was what happened to mortals who became too tempting for their own good. After all, highly ranked Hell demons like him never had anything to do – they roamed the mortal world, looking for entertainment, and Miku just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, two thousand years ago. He really hadn't meant to kill her. He still felt a little guilty about that – or as guilty as it was possible for him to feel.

He killed her simply because she distracted him, and he wanted to keep her. He took her soul out, and fashioned her mortal shell into the hardened, refined shell of a demon – he kept her soul still, and with her soul, her memories. His eyes glance up at her – she stays in the middle of the room, still utterly confused. He sighed, tired.

She was a prideful demon. He would, unfortunately, have to tame her first, before he allowed her into his private world – but it would be amusing. More amusing than his life before that, anyway – and he would finally have a reason to live for again. The eternal life of a demon of Hell could be monotonous. She changed things for him.

_So let me tell you a long story about a proud girl and a demon from Hell._

"Once upon a time, there was a demon, and he fell for a girl with teal hair and emerald eyes…a prideful girl, and because of her pride, when she cried, her tears would beckon specially for the demon…" and so it went on in that tune, until she was crying again, screaming and asking him to stop. But he didn't stop, because he loved her tears.

And the proud demon stays with her killer because she has no other choice. A killer who loved her not for who she was – for he was a demon – but because he loved her tears.

And he loved her tears because he loved suffering, and her very presence made him suffer. Their relationship, an immortal and an amnesiac, was a strange one – and it made him wonder if he should try to progress, or whether he should leave her well alone. Whether he should cradle her back to the Valley of Despair. Would that make her cry even more? Her tears entranced him – he had never seen such sorrow.

_What a strange story, and what a twisted love. To fall for someone for their tears and their glassy green eyes – to fall for something you have created and destroyed._

But who would ever expect a demon to love?

* * *

_**Solitaryloner: **__I honestly have no idea what is going on, so I welcome any interpretation you have to give. I hope Ten-Faced sees this because I still feel kind of bad for badgering her so much. Although this is pretty lousy compensation. (Tenny this is a KaiMi which is basically one of your favoured ships so does that give me bonus points for effort)_

_I am not sure if it's a good idea to continue this because this seems very confusing and my head hurts from trying to explain this story to myself._


End file.
